Melting Ice
by Ashley Sky
Summary: (This story occurs after the Fall of Five) After the loss of Eight, Six, Nine, and John are desperate to regroup after being split up, and Ella is struggling by herself in enemy territory. Before they can find each other again and save Ella, however, Marina starts receiving mysterious messages in her dreams that suggest the impossible. Dare she hope?
1. Grow Up

**Author's Note: Hi! Thanks for opening up my story! I really hope you enjoy it! This is a continuation of the series after Fall of Five. This chapter is what happens after Ella's kidnapping in her point of view. :) **

Ella's Point of View:

"It's the Loric prisoner." I hear someone's raspy voice whisper with glee as I arise from my unconsciousness.

My hands twitch, but cold, metal handcuffs and another pair of shackles on my ankles prevent me from using either of them. My head feels foggy, and my toes are frozen. I flinch when the dull thumps of heavy boots from across the room reach my ears. I force my eyes open, which immediately dart to the face of the person who spoke. He's a Mog. Uncertainty flashes behind his dark eyes before he schools his features to an icy indifference.

"Get up," he commands, scraping the cane against the floor. I wince at the high-pitched screech it makes against the stone. My body groans in protest as I push myself up against the wall without fully allowing my brain to register my actions yet. My throat scratches itself in its thirst. Where am I? How long have I been out? An hour? A few days?

The realization hits me quickly like a blow dealt from a blunt, wooden bat. I've been kidnapped! I try to suppress it, but my fear creeps up and shakes me until I start trembling. My heartbeat quickens and my breath grows shallow. Didn't Setrakus Ra promise me in my dreams that this would happen? My hoarse throat whispers for Marina, but the Mog in front of me just smirks.

"Your weak Loric allies aren't here to protect you this time," he taunts as I ball my hands into fists. At least I know now that the rest of them are safe. A Mog steps forward with a blindfold ready in his hands, taking advantage of my disorientation. Shaking the remaining sleepiness off, I jump up and back away. I'm not in Chicago with my friends anymore.

This is enemy territory.

I can barely see in this dark room, with its walls slanted upwards towards the sagging ceiling. Crates and tall boxes are stacked around me, some of them with "handle with care" stamped on the sides. Am I in a Mog ship? I blink my eyes and realize that I'm surrounded by five Mogs. They look uncertain as to how to proceed now that I've woken up, their eyes constantly darting towards the Mog with the cane, whom I now label as their leader. They would be easy pickings, if only another Garde was here with me. But I'm alone, aren't I? _I have no chance._ I shake my head a little to clear my pessimistic thoughts. _Grow up, Ella,_ I tell myself. I need to at least try.

"Stop," I try to say fiercely before they can step closer. I thrust out my hand in front of me, palm forward. A few of them flinch, but the one with the cane only laughs.

"Number Ten," he says, chuckling. "It would be a miracle if you had any useful legacies right now." _I'm not Number Ten_, my mind whispers furiously at him. His eyes widen in surprise as I accidentally transmit the message to him by mistake, but he's not the only one startled by the other's comments. Did Five tell him about me?

Rage starts burning from inside my chest at the thought of Five, and I try to focus on thoughts of Marina and Nine instead. Marina would be strong enough to escape, no matter how dire the situation. And Nine? I almost smile at the thought. He would never let a couple of Mogs cornering him escape alive.

I know I have to try. I call up my courage by imagining them next to me, and turn towards the nearest Mog while recalling Nine's words.

_Duck and aim their side, because they have the advantage of height. If you can get them to fall over, you'll have the advantage._

My hatred for Five and the memories of my friends push me past acting like the nervous, shy, 12-year-old that I normally am. I slip out of my oversized manacles easily and hear them clanging to the floor. I lift my feet out of their bindings and grin just a little after seeing the astonished faces of the Mogs. I feel almost like Nine for a second. His attitude must have rubbed off on me.

I focus and launch myself at the nearest enemy with my fists clenched. I'm almost tempted to shout, "For Lorien!" The prickling needles inside my right foot which has fallen asleep make me hobble a little, but I ignore it.

The soldier's eyes widen, surprised at my daring charge. I use his surprise against him, ducking his punch that was too slow and throwing my fist into his side. He grunts and winces in time for me to forcefully kick the backs of his knees, causing him to fall backwards with a thud. I spare a second to see his eyelids close slightly so that I can only see the whites of his eyes. I lift my head up again, and not a moment too late. The Mog wielding the cane rushes towards us, overcoming his surprise, followed quickly by the three other Mogs.

Powered by adrenaline, I use the only Legacy I've ever mastered to shrink into a 6-year old and duck past the Mogs' legs. The Mog nearest to me reaches out for my flying hair, but his hand just barely grazes it as I dart past. He leans heavily on his right foot as he whirls around, and I notice that the left one is in some sort of a cast. That must be what his cane is for. I see the said wooden pole inches from my head, and grasp it tightly with both hands. I twist the cane out of his grasp and bring it down upon him, changing back into a 12-year old in the middle of the swing. It crashes down upon his shoulder, and I wince slightly as his knees give way. He falls down on top of the other Mog, and I jab the cane at his throat. The Mog coughs, trying to breathe, struggling to shove the cane away.

As I fight to hold the cane in place and turn to the other Mog soldiers at the same time, I hear a click next to my ear. My eyes swivel to the left and see a gun an inch from my forehead.

"Put the cane down," the Mog says threateningly. They must have found out that I don't have telekinesis. Nine would never let that get in his way. In one fluid movement, I whirl the cane towards his face, smacking the gun out of his hand and scraping his cheek. I hear the gun clatter hollowly onto the ground as I aim a quick kick at his side. The attack causes him to lean over, wheezing. My eyes widen, stunned at how much I've improved, but it's too early to celebrate now.

I pivot to my right and flinch when I see only the hollow interior of a gun. Behind it is one of the last two standing Mogs. The pistol is so close that it's hard to focus on its shiny, smooth texture. I see a green light growing brighter and brighter deep inside the metal cylinder, and I know I'm too late to block the bullet. As I swing the wooden cane for the last time anyway, I think of the remaining Loric. They will find a way to punish these Mogs for the destruction they waged upon my planet.

Hatred flashes in my eyes as I focus past the gun to the eyes of the Mog wielding it with a cold determination. My heart thumps wildly in my chest, protesting my imminent death, but I hold the glare and continue to suppress my fear. I know that I will never stoop so low as to beg for my life.

My last breath of air leaves my lungs. My heart beats out the final pulse to its rhythm.

I hear a blast and see a flash of green light, and then there is only darkness.

**A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Reviews would be great, especially constructive criticism! If you review, I will be forever thankful!**

**I hope you all enjoyed Ella growing up a little! **


	2. Our Loss

**Author's Note: Thanks for staying with me! I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)**

Marina's point of view:

I hear footsteps cross the old motel room, and am too weak to even lift my head. All my energy has been sapped from me. I feel a hand on my shoulder and hear the sofa springs creak and moan as Six sinks onto the sofa next to me.

"Marina..." Six begins, and sighs. "I'm sorry," she decides to say, but I can't find it in my heart to respond. Another tear leaks out from beneath my eyelids and sinks into the old sofa. Our latest escape has been a blur, and I'm not even sure what I had done or seen. I feel like I'm in a daze, without consciously knowing what's going on, with just one clear picture in my mind - Five stabbing Eight. I can see Eight's deep green eyes, and the clean pierce that left a gaping hole in Eight's chest, and in my heart.

He's still on my mind constantly. Eight, who put others' lives before his. Eight, who tried so hard everyday just to make us laugh. Eight, who is now gone forever, killed by his own kind.

He didn't deserve this.

Nine appears in the doorway. Six glares at him, and I can feel the intensity of it even though I'm not the victim. Nine saunters in and sits in the chair nearest to the door while crossing his arms. I can tell that both Six and I are resisting the urge to whack him with the coffee table that separates us with our telekinesis.

"I-," Nine starts, lowering his arms to his sides. Six raises her eyebrows coldly and puts her arm across my shoulders, and I'm glad for the comfort. "I know it was my fault."

He should know, the jerk. If only he hadn't added that last comment that set Five off. Nine sighed. "And I'm sorry," he adds. I look up. Nine was apologizing? I'm shocked at what I see.

A look of anguish crosses Nine's face as we meet eyes, and I realize I had never seen him like this before. He had always been the calm and confident one, but now he was finally peeling off his cover to reveal the Nine that I hadn't really noticed before, the one who cared. I've almost forgotten that I'm not the only one who cared about Eight, that his death is not only my loss.

Nine sighs again. "I'm really sorry," he repeats. "I know I can be really stupid sometimes. Well, worse than that." He almost grins, but shakes his head instead. A silence ensues, until he clears his throat and starts again. "We can't stay here forever. We need to go back to Chicago and meet up with the others."

"Nine," Six sighs. "For once, why don't we rest and wait until morning first."

Nine hesitates, then nods. "This once." And I knew why - it was for Eight.

I spread out on the sofa, not expecting to fall asleep the second my head hits the sofa cushion, but I do.

I see the little island from a distance, and I know that it's the one. A block of ice glints, the centerpiece of a small frozen wasteland that I had created. As I near, I see a lone figure kneeling in front of the ice block which holds Eight. It's Five, still in his torn shirt from the battle that had just occurred. His palms are pressed up against the ice, desperately trying to melt it, his fingers beginning to turn blue at the tips. Even though it's below freezing, I barely even feel numb. When I finally stop zooming in, I find myself kneeling next to him, taking in the sight of Eight.

His eyes are closed, as if he's merely in a deep sleep. His curly hair swirls around him, and the strong arms that used to find their way around me back in Chicago are laid, unmoving, at his sides. I felt new tears brimming and spilling out, falling onto the transparent ice and freezing there. I think of the days he promised me after the war, and realize that's not possible anymore. Because... I force myself to say it. Because he's never coming back.

I focus on the features of his face, wishing I could talk to him one last time. _Eight._ I think. _I miss you already_. I clench my fists as my vision again gets blurry with tears. Why did this have to happen to him?

Oddly enough, I don't see any wounds on Eight. He looks perfectly healthy, like the time I first saw him in India. When I finally break my eyes away from him, I hear Five next to me mumbling something over and over, and resist the urge to stab him with something, with anything. I will an icicle to form in my hands, but my legacy doesn't cooperate.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this, Eight. I didn't mean to kill you. You weren't supposed to get hurt. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Eight," Five mumbles.

I feel a twinge of sympathy, but the rest of me shoves it to the back of my mind as I whisper harshly, "It was all your fault."

Startled, Five whips around his head to see me. The effect is immediate. His face morphs into one of terror and one of his hands, the one that usually holds the rubber and metal ball, starts fidgeting. I feel the tiniest bit of satisfaction upon seeing the eyepatch slanted across his face, but I'm still surprised at his reaction. I never thought that I could cause fear before.

Five bites his lip and doesn't meet my eyes. "I'm sorry, Marina. It wasn't supposed to be like this."

I narrow my eyes coldly. "It's already too late to be sorry, you traitor," I spat. The heat from my words leaves a fine, swirling puff of white in the air. His eyes widen further, and he seems to shrink into himself, speechless. I soften for a moment, seeing him as a child, with his Cepan ill and dying. As if realizing this, Five seizes the chance to revive his vocal cords.

"Save him, Marina!" Five cries desperately.

I shake my head. "I can't," I mumble. My frustration at my helplessness grows.

"Yes, you can. The Mogadorians did it to One before. You can do it for Eight."

I narrow my eyes. One was brought back to life? I can't tell if he's lying or not. "We aren't meant to revive the dead. It isn't possible!"

"It is," he replies. "One was brought back. Her body was taken to a laboratory and her memories were rescued. The scientist working there even claims that a part of her lived on inside a test subject."

I feel a wave of nausea and disgust at his suggestion. What kind of sick experiment was that? We should be honoring Eight, not experimenting on him, like the Mogs. "No," I choke out. There's no way I would do that to Eight.

"This is different," he says desperately, pleading with me now, because he can see the disgust imprinted on my face. "That's why the fourth scar on your ankle is so faint. You can save him." I glare at him until I realize he's sincere.

"I'll make sure no Mogadorians come by for a week. I promise," he adds meekly. I can't believe he's doing this. What is he doing this for?

It's a trap, my mind immediately answers. Don't trust him. But I've already moved on, thinking about how to get back to John, Ella, and Sam, and how I'll manage to save him. To save Eight. My mind can't really wrap around the idea just yet, though I've thought it hopelessly at least a thousand times since we lost him. I nod slowly towards Five, beginning to let my guard down.

"Oh, and my offer still stands. You still have time to join the winning side," Five adds tentatively. He knows immediately that this was a wrong move, and I can see it in his face. I straighten up and glare at him, and feel my anger begin to boil again.

**Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please please review! It would be great if any of you could point out my mistakes and weak points, since I'm still kind of new to this. :)**


	3. Still Alive

**A/N: Hi, everyone! There'll be a longer note at the end. For now, I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

Ella's Point of View:

I wake up shivering on cold tile. I feel too weak to lift my lead-filled limbs, which are bent around me at an awkward angle.

A set of footsteps echoes across the walls, getting louder and louder before halting in front of me. I shiver as I feel icy fingers brush across my forehead as my blindfold is removed. One glance around me makes me realize that everything's real, and that I'm not in a dream...and that I'm not...dead?

My head threatens to break open from a combination of nausea and headaches, and my heart begins to quicken its pace. I'm surprised when I notice that no new handcuffs have been added onto my wrists. I'm only handicapped by a pair on my ankles. Unfortunately, the new pair is now my size.

My eyes adjust to the dim lighting and latch onto a small, pale hand holding a cup in front of me. I nearly jump when I see it. I want to scream, "Get away from me!" but all that comes out is a moan.

My eyes fly up until I see a face. A female face, with wide eyes and slightly flushed cheeks that contrast starkly with her milk-white skin. Even though my brain still feels stuffed with cotton balls, this sight registers as abnormal. It's odd, but I've never seen a female Mog before. The cold glare I've been trying to hold falls away in my surprise.

The hand shoves forward a little, as if ordering me to take the cup. Trembling, my fingers reach out and curl around it, but I don't take a sip. As soon as my fist closes around the cup, the Mog lets go quickly, as if the cup is on fire. When I peer down at it, I hear the quick shuffling of feet as she steps backwards a few yards, as if I'm contagious. I push myself to a sitting position, wincing at the sharp pain in my neck while trying to conceal my agony from the Mog. I shove myself backwards away from her, lifting my arms up in a defensive position like Nine taught me. The sudden movement sends a tingling feeling through my sleeping feet.

I blink in the darkness, desperately trying to make out more of her face. She looks familiar, as if she came out of one of my dreams. Her raven black hair covers her bare shoulders, and I can see some of her bluish veins through her pale skin under the dim light. She's wearing a white, flowing dress embellished with gold lace at the hem that gives her an almost ghostly look. Shocked, I also notice that she looks about the same age as me. My fear subsides a little underneath my astonishment, and my arms lower just a tad. Who is she?

She opens her mouth to say something, but closes it a second later and stares not at me, but at the wall directly to my right. Maybe I could knock her out and run for it. I don't see anyone in my near vicinity, anyway.

I quickly glance over the room. It's a long, long hallway, lined with red and gold tile and decorated with hanging fabrics depicting murder scenes. I shudder as I see on one of them a girl with long, blond hair being stabbed by a Mog. The second tapestry paints the picture of a young girl with her eyes wide, and a Mog towering above her, getting ready for the fatal strike. I tear my eyes away, taking long, steady breaths to calm myself down. I can't look at the tapestries anymore.

This room doesn't seem like what a torture room or a prison cell would look like, but who knows what to expect from the Mogs? I'm sitting on a round, raised platform, large enough for me to lay across, with steps descending down onto the tiled floor on which the girl stands. As my eyes seek out the corners of the room, I see Mogs standing in the doorway, three of whom stand alert, their guns already pointed towards me and awaiting command. So much for my earlier escape plan.

The girl glances back at them, maybe to gain confidence. "Drink it," she tells me once she turns back around. I'm too tired and too thirsty to fight her command. I lift the bronze cup to my lips and gulp down the refreshing, cool water. My parched tongue eagerly licks the last drops until they are all gone. Once I finish the cup, my throat begs for more. I almost cave in and plead the girl for water, but, instead, I clench my fists. They're all Mogs, and they don't show mercy.

The girl stands still with a stone-cold glare. "There's going to be food later. The Great Leader told you to wait and be patient." she says, with her arms crossed. As she turns to leave, I wonder if the water was drugged. I don't feel woozy yet, at least. My eyes dart around the room again, finding no other exits.

"Wait," I stammer. My voice cracks from lack of use. "I-um," I start. I want to ask where I am, but she's never going to answer that. She twirls around halfway, her dress floating around her ankles. I need an excuse to leave this room.

"I-I need to use the bathroom," I mutter. Maybe I can get a better understanding of the situation I'm in once I see more of the area. Then I can plan an escape.

She stares at me in disgust. "Seriously?" she asks. I nod. "Ugh! No one prepared me for this!" she complains, frustrated, already dropping her mask of formality. "Isn't there some pot you can use?" I shake my head, hoping she'll let me out, if only for a few minutes.

A guard from the doorway clears his throat. "Miss?" The girl hesitates, then turns around.

"What?"

"I can go get something," he rumbles. She sighs.

"Go, then." Bitter disappointment fills me up as the Mog guard walks away. I turn away from my thoughts and focus on the girl instead.

I'm kind of curious as to who this girl is. She looks like she's from a family in the upper class, and was probably ordered to take care of me by Setrakus Ra. She probably also wants to kill me.

As if to prove my point, she chooses the silence as the time to turn back and shoot me a chilling look. "I can't believe we're being so kind to this Loric," she mutters under her breath. Her arms remain tightly crossed as she slowly shifts from foot to foot in the cold. Her dark brown eyes flash dangerously in the dark.

"Miss?" the guard calls from the doorway.

"It's Kelly," she calls back, exasperated. I can tell from her tone that this isn't the first time she's told them.

"Miss Kelly, here." He holds out a bucket, waiting for her approval. She nods and points to the corner of the room.

"Just put it there," she sighs, not even looking in the direction in which she's pointing.

"Yes, ma'am." he rumbles. I wonder why the other Mogs are showing her so much respect. Kelly looks almost uncomfortable with it herself.

"Well," she says, directing her thoughts towards me, "That had better be it. I wasn't supposed to do anything other than give you water."

I'm not really sure what to say, so I just nod and tuck my legs in to conserve my body heat. With one last glare, she quietly shuffles across the room and exits through the small door. The guards, after taking one look around the room, close the door with a loud slam that bounces off the walls of my new prison cell.

I squeeze my legs tighter, trying not to hyperventilate. I can't panic. I have to come up with a plan. I have to escape, because I know I'm going to be tortured for information. I slowly shuffle towards the door, wincing as the chain dangling from my ankles screeches against the floor, making a sound like nails against blackboards.

I feel desperate for the first time since I woke up as I realize there's no door handle. I pound the door, and hear only hollow, metallic clangs, without any footsteps. Maybe that's a good thing. My stomach growls in hunger and I clench it in order to stop the gnawing feeling from eating me up.

I sigh and sink to the floor, leaning my head back against the freezing metal door. What would Nine do? What would Marina do? Frustrated, I look down at my small, thin, practically useless limbs, wishing I had an useful legacy.

As my mind awakens further, my thoughts return to my dreams. I shudder. As much as I hate to admit it, I know the reason why I wasn't killed is because Setrakus Ra wants me alive.

Maybe a little worse for wear, but with my heart still beating, and with my lungs still breathing.

He wants me alive, to be his heir.

**A/N: Hi, everyone! ****I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I hope you guys are feeling the suspense! :) ****Sorry if you guys didn't like this chapter as much! I wasn't as satisfied with it as the other chapters. The next chapter will be better and have lots of action from Sam's point of view!**

**Does anyone remember who Kelly is? Free virtual cupcakes to anyone who can remember!**

**It would be great if any of you could participate in the poll on my profile for this story! Thanks in advance!**

**Special thanks to my awesome reviewers, favoriters, and followers! You guys have really brightened up my day!**

**Adam, you're an amazing writer and I'm so flattered that you enjoy my story!**

**Meerkat78, thanks for being so amazing and inspirational!**

**LoricNumber17, thank you so much!**

**Marina3Eight, I felt so happy after I saw your review! Thanks!**

**Paragon Eight, your reviews made my day! Thank you!**


	4. Abduction

**Author's Note: Thanks for reading on! I thought this was pretty much assumed, but just in case, I don't own the Lorien Legacies or any of the characters!**

**Here's Chapter 3!**

Sam's Point of View:

I'm awakened by a shuffling sound next to me. I open my eyes a sliver, on high alert, until I realize that it's just Adam. Letting out a breath I didn't even know I was holding, I sit up. I cough in the dust and immediately look to my left. Where did my father go?

"Dad?" I say frantically, standing up, my heart already starting to pound.

"I'm here, Sam, in the other room," he replies. I feel my body sag with relief. I almost thought that he didn't survive yesterday, and that maybe John really didn't succeed in saving him. Maybe I'm becoming paranoid. I rub my hands together to warm them and enter the kitchen.

My father is waiting for me, and hands over my breakfast. I hear the near broken kitchen door creak open as John enters the room clutching the tablet.

"They've moved from Florida," John says shakily, handing the tablet to me. I glance at screen and locate the three stationary, flashing dots currently in Georgia. My eyes stare unblinkingly until I stop with a sudden realization. Wait. Only three?

"John, I think one's missing." I look up into his tired face. He looks like he's barely gotten any rest. He shakes his head hopelessly.

"I know, Sam. We're one less now." My heart clenches. Another lost Lorien.

"Who is it?" I ask, dreading the answer. I can't help but wonder if it is Six. I remembered when she pushed me away, telling me that this war couldn't be fought without casualties, but I never really thought that the first one to go would be her. My heart clenches, wondering if that was one of the last things she said to me. _She can protect herself,_ I force myself to think, but I can't help but also implore, _please, please don't let it be Six_.

"It's Eight." John lifts his ankle to show us the scar, and I feel horrible at once for my thoughts from a few seconds ago. Every Loric is too valuable to lose, and my relationship with Six shouldn't be the priority right now. But even as I think this, I feel immensely relieved. It's not Six, my mind keeps repeating to myself. Six is alive. I can't look at John because I feel so selfish, until the blow hits me. _It's Eight? _

Sarah bites her lip and leans her head onto John's shoulder. Her eyelids lower and she mutters something under her breath, something only John can hear. Just as he's about to reply, I hear a smash, and the tinkling of broken glass. I turn around and see a Kraul taking out what's remaining of the kitchen window with its claws, baring its crooked teeth at us.

Sarah screams and ducks as the glass shards pierce her. My dad's squinting outside until I realize that he doesn't have his glasses on yet. I dash to our bedroom and grab a gun along with my dad's glasses, and arrive just in time to see another Kraul jump inside. Shoving the glasses at my dad, I point my gun out the window in case any other Mogs or monsters decide to barge in while John is occupied.

John lights his hands on fire and deftly forms two fireballs, lobbing one at each Kraul. Each one disintegrates immediately. John stands still for a moment while everyone stays eerily silent. Sarah raises an eyebrow with her gun still pointed in front of her.

"So that's all?"

Just as the last word slips from her lips, the front door breaks down. Mogs swarm into the cramped space, aiming their guns at us. As they all shoot in unison, John holds out his hands to stop their bullets and flings them back. I point at the one nearest to my father and shoot it just after it disintegrates. Surprised, I look over at my grinning father, with a gun still smoking in his hand.

"I'm glad I can still help with something," he chuckles, but we don't get any time to celebrate. The second Mog lumbers forth just as John appears at my left and stops his bullet from piercing me. Without another word, he continues to burn down the Mogadorians.

One of his flames misses a Mogadorian and ignites the old, stained sofa. I cough in the pungent smoke as John shakes his head, frustrated. "The house going to burn down. We need to get out."

I stare at the doorway from which Mogs were still streaming in from. Sarah is slowing picking them off one by one, but we'll run out of bullets eventually. One of the Mogs stares directly at me, no longer trying to hide his pale face as he raises his weapon. Instinctively, I aim and fire, and watch as he crumples into dust.

"Through the window," John shouts to us while forming another sphere of flames. He picks my dad up telekinetically and eases him through the window frame. The fire from his hands fly towards the next group of Mogs. Sarah screams as a Mogadorian's cannon fire scrapes by her ankle. John flinches, but doesn't waste time in turning. I can tell the Mog is an officer of some sort. He came dressed fully in uniform with a gleaming sword tucked in his belt, but I can't really see much else in the confusion. To my right, I can see Adam furrowing his brows in concentration as he thrusts his hands out. The floor of the house cracks open down to the foundation between us and the advancing Mogadorians with a deafening rumble. His face is pale but calm as he aims at the tall Mog wielding the cannon with his borrowed gun and fires. As the Mog crumples to dust, I think I see a flash of recognition pass Adam's eyes. The Mog turns one last time to glare at Adam with a burning hatred. His lips form one word.

"Traitor." Adams eyes look glazed as he clenches the gun tighter, his lips pressed into a thin line. It's not until later that I realize that the moisture in his eyes was tears.

John spins around to make sure no one yet is severely hurt. "Go through the window. I'll be right there," he orders us, but I shake my head. I'm not leaving him. My gun only trembles slightly when I point it at one Mog after another until I hear an empty click. It's out. John grabs me, at the same time launching an enormous fireball that demolishes half of the remaining Mogs and also sets fire to the rest of wooden house.

Coughing, I feel myself being deposited outside onto the dry field outside the window. I hit the ground with a thump. "John!" I hear Sarah scream. Not a second later, he leaps out the window, the remaining shards of glass just barely scraping his legs. Cannon fire shoots out of the broken window, which John stops and throws back inside. Outside, I see three more silver ships landing, and one more hovering in the air. A Mog steps out of the first one and points his gun towards the house.

"Run!" John shouts, and I know what he's thinking. There's no way we'll be able to defeat all of them. Gasping for air in the dust and smoke, I turn and sprint towards the forest behind the fields, Adam right on my heels.

John continues to fight even as we run, and Sarah hands me a Mog gun she found. Even though I can't see much through all the smoke, I can tell that John's legacies really have gotten more powerful since our last battle, and feel a tiny spark of pride. I double over in coughs once I reach the forest, clutching my side, and turn back one last time to see the roof of the house collapse inwards, sending up sparks and dust. I hear the groan of a monster trapped inside as it burns to death.

My eyes widen. "The chests!" As if reading my mind, the chests shoot out of the side of the house, splintering the wall. John pulls them closer until they stop in front of us with a grinding crunch.

A flash of green passes by my right and Sarah lets out a yelp. The cloth covering her shoulder is quickly dampening with blood. I whip my head around to see about a group of Mogs advancing on us. My heartbeat quickens. There's no way to escape now. I yank my father up with one hand and Sarah's wrist with the other and pull them farther into the forest. Sarah cries out as a branch scrapes her wounded shoulder. Out of the corner of my eyes, I see Adam thrusting his hands forward. As if connected to him somehow, the ground begins trembling. The trees in the earthquake's path slant and fall forward onto the Mogadorians. A giant puff of dust emerges from where they stood, and the glint of a sword hacks through a branch before falling for the last time. Adam smiles, but it looks pained. "Let's go."

"John," Sarah gasps, short of breath. "He's still back there."

My head swivels around to see John stand in the middle of the field, fighting an entire army by himself. His arm reaches out into the air as a tree uproots and smashes into a row of Mogs. He continues flinging trees and stacking them until they tower over the house. Breathing heavily, he forms the largest fireball I've ever seen him create and lobs it on top. Immediately, the wood catches on fire. Flames climb down from the top and spread over the field, eagerly licking up the dried grass. Within a minute, the fire consumes at least half of the field, and I can't see John through the smoke. I tilt my head to see the flames advance steadily towards silver ships on the other side until they grab on and climb inside. There's no way the Mogs are using those again.

Sarah coughs. "We have to help him!" I nod and lift my gun, but I can't find a target anymore in the chaos. The smoke stings my eyes and squeezes my chest.

I see another silver ship hovering in the distance zoom over with surprising speed. I aim my gun and fire at it, but the bullets merely make tiny dents in the shiny material. A ladder lowers from it, and a mog nimbly climbs down and reaches into the flames. I aim my gun again and shoot. A howl pierces our ears as the Mog falls off the ladder into the flames, clutching at his side. Someone from inside the ship shoots a glowing bullet into the field and leans down to yank something up, presumably the other soldier. An object rises out of the fire, pulled up by the Mog. I pose my gun to shoot and squint through the smoke. As the person dangles upside-down by the ankle, I realize that, in fact, it isn't the other soldier.

It's John. He wobbles over the flames until a final yank brings him into the ship.

"NO!" I scream, snapping out of my daze and shooting at last, and watching as the bullets pinged harmlessly off of the closed opening hatch. Adam and Sarah thrust their guns out also, to no avail.

"John!" Sarah screams, lurching forward and dropping her gun. Her eyes pool with tears. The wound on her arm continues to bleed, but she doesn't seem to notice. Adam shakes his head, lowering his gun.

"We won't be able to get him back. Not now," he mutters. I shake my head.

"I'm never leaving him behind!" I yell towards him.

Adam gestures to Sarah. "She's hurt. We need to get her help." I feel split into two halves. One side wants to save John, and the other wants to help Sarah. My father put his hand on my shoulder.

"We have to go, son." He wheezes with the effort of talking. I feel overwhelmed. I wasn't meant to make decisions like this. I wasn't meant to be a leader. For a second, I stare unmovingly at the silver ship now rising into the sky until my more practical side wins out.

"Let's go," I tell them, and beckon them deeper into the woods. I grab two trunks and tuck them under my arms. As my dad reaches for the other one, Adam picks Sarah up and runs after me. By the time we get to the other side, I'm panting like a dog and my dad looks like he's going to collapse any minute.

Just as I'm appreciating the loss of any Mogadorians in our near vicinity, I hear sirens wailing from a distance. I catch my breath before telling my dad, "I think we can take one of these cars." In front of us, two old, dusty cars are parked along the sidewalk. My dad stumbles forward and jimmies the lock open on one of them. I'm surprised that it opens so easily until I see the interior of the car. Everything looks like it had been abandoned for a decade after being bashed repeatedly with a baseball bat, but I couldn't care less.

"Give me a second," my dad wheezes. The sirens got closer and closer until I had to fight the urge to slam my palms onto my ears. The rumble of a car engine fights its way past the wails of the siren as the car reluctantly complies to my dad's wishes. I slide into shotgun as Adam gets into the back and lays Sarah down across the three seats.

I see flashes of red light dance across my vision, and catch a firetruck coming around the block out of the corner of my eyes.

"GO!" I yell, and my dad hits the gas. We shoot forward, careening, and turn the next corner. I strain my neck in time to see a group firemen step out of the truck with a hose. Turning back around, I shake my head as I realize the hopelessness of our situation. If Six, Marina, and Nine could have, I'm sure they would have gone to Chicago to look for us by now. Seeing their unmoving dots on the tablet in Georgia makes me believe that they must be in such a bad condition that they can't travel. I feel panic and distress seize me.

We lost John. We're only a group of humans now, plus a Mogadorian. How are we supposed to fight this war by ourselves?

**A/N: Thanks for reading again! If you have any tips for writing action, they would be much appreciated!**


	5. No Escape

**Author's Note: Thanks for staying with me! I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)**

Six's point of view:

"Marina!" I whisper. No response. "Marina!" I yell, even though I know it'll wake up Nine. Still no response. Marina continues jerking, her face now a bit pale. I shake her shoulder, worrying if Ella had passed on the coma to her telepathically. "MARINA!" I yell. As soon as her eyes snap open, I breathe a sigh of relief. Marina groans and rubs at her eyes. It's as if she didn't get any rest at all.

"Five," she whispers, struggling to push herself up. My confusion must have shown on my face, because she shakes her head and continues.

"I saw him in a dream," she says. "He said we could save Eight. He said no Mogs would be near in the next week so that we could get to him."

I frown. "It's a trap," is my immediate reply. Marina nods. "We can't go back, Marina. We-" I choke on my words. "He's dead. We can't save him." But even as I say this, I can see the look on Marina's face. She's already hoping.

I hear a faint buzzing noise in my head.

_Six._

_Ella?_ I think back to her. I hope it's Ella.

_Six._

Her voice is growing meeker. I furrow my brows in concentration and send another message out to her. Marina is watching me, with her chin propped up in her hands and her eyelids weighed down with exhaustion.

_Ella, Eight's gone._

_I know. We were attacked._

I bite my lip. I know it was Five who planned this all out. I feel a searing hatred for him. To Marina, I say,"It's Ella."

I focus my concentration on Ella again. _Where are you right now?_

_I don't know._

Suddenly, my visions starts blurring. Parts of the room break apart until I see only darkness. As soon as the darkness envelops me, however, a picture sputters to life in front of my eyes.

A long hall stretches out to my right. Its walls are decorated lavishly with tapestries and its tiles painted gold and purple. In the tapestry nearest to me, I see a girl with long blonde hair being stabbed by a Mog. With a wrenching pain, I realize that this must be Number One. As I peer farther down the hall, I see others. Number Two. Number Three. I feel disgust for the war-thirsty Mogs, and their way of honoring their battles. The fourth tapestry brings up bile from the back of my throat. I clench my fists in frustration and revulsion. The picture depicts Five shoving a knife through Eight. As if I don't see that scene enough already. As if I don't see that image play across my vision every time I close my eyes.

A steady humming noise comes from behind me. I've been so engrossed in the tapestries that I haven't noticed it yet. I turn around and see a crouching girl in front of an exquisitely decorated throne. It's Ella, but I don't think she can see me. I shout towards her, but she doesn't even lift her head. Ella is surrounded by a glowing, dome-shaped force field, projected by a single machine from the ceiling, and I wonder if it's the same one that blasted John back from the Mog base from what felt like so long ago.

The throne is centered in the middle of the room, raised from the floor. Ella is dressed in a flowing white dress with a ruffled trimming resting around her ankles, and is sitting on top of the marble pedestals that lead up to the throne. The throne seems far too small for Setrakus Ra. Is it for Ella?

She seems well cared-for, her hair neatly braided, but I knew this must be a prison for her. A menacing jail cell that she can't escape. A whisper forces its way into my head, a last plea from Ella just as she tilts her head up with a haunted look in her eyes.

_Help me._

**Author's Note: Wow I actually have people reading this! :) Please review so I can know how you feel about my writing! Thanks! **


	6. My Fault

**A/N: Sorry for not updating for so long! I'll have a longer note at the end, but for now, enjoy!**

Adam's Point of View:

I feel like I'm dreaming, but I'm not. Sitting in the back of a lurching car for hours gives me a lot of time to think things over. Maybe too much time. Sarah's asleep, too tired to stay awake after the Mogs' ambush. I wish I could fall asleep that easily and experience the relief of losing consciousness.

Scenes keep flashing across my vision. The lunging Kraul. The splintering window. And then chaos. I remember shooting blindly, rejoicing every time my gun made its mark, but at the same time, feeling the successes gradually carve out a deep, hollow hole inside of me.

I felt One's legacy inside me surge as I saw him, and I felt my anger taking over. It pounded through my soul and trembled across the floor, shoving down the Mogs in front of me. I didn't stop. My hand raised and my finger pulled the trigger, and I didn't stop.

Until it was done. Until he was gone.

The general. My father.

I don't know what I'm supposed to be feeling. Before now, when I dared imagine this moment, I saw myself rejoicing, content and satisfied with my revenge. But now?

My ears still hear phantom ringing caused by the blast that jerked my arm backwards, the one that shot the bullet that pierced through his fancy, useless uniform. A sick, horrible feeling claws at my chest.

Should I have been scared of him?

I wasn't.

Maybe I should have saved him.

But I know he wouldn't do the same for me.

I know I never was his favorite son. I know he didn't even regard me as one after I stopped believing in his cause. My mother was disgusted with me after he told her the truth. My whole family was. I don't want to go back, anyway. But now, I know that I can't. It's impossible. It's time to forget the fact that I lived with them before, that I had been one of them before...before I was changed. I was no different from them, until One came along. She changed my life in exchange for her own.

That did it. I can't hold it back any longer.

I can't believe I'm crying. A silent tear streaks across my face. Day has already turned into night, and I'm thankful for the darkness to conceal my face while I think my bitter thoughts. I was never accepted into my family or the Mogadorian society, was I? I was never talented enough for them. My father had always looked down on me with scorn, and so did the other officers. I know I'm never going to feel included or appreciated at my old home.

Now? I guess I have Malcolm and his son Sam. They've been very welcoming, not caring about my race or where I came from, only the fact that I'm here now, and that I'm on their side, but they can't replace One. I won't ever be able to forget the expression on John's face when I first saw him, though, with the disgust winding itself into his features. I knew the expression too well. It was the same one that greeted me every time I met my father's eyes.

"Adam?" Malcolm says from the front. Sam starts turning around.

Shoot. I use my sleeve to swipe at my eye and clear my throat. "Yes?" I grunt.

"Are you okay back there?"

"Yes," I reply, fidgeting with my sleeve. "Sarah's fine, too, but we might need to hurry." The car grinds over a slight rise in the road, and I steady the chests next to me to keep them from toppling over. Sam told me there's something called a healing stone inside them that would solve all our problems, but we can't access them without the Garde. Sam catches sight of Sarah and winces.

"Don't worry, I think there's another city up ahead. We'll use the fake IDs to get Sarah to a doctor," Malcolm says.

If only John were around, then he could heal her. But I couldn't save him and help the cause that One prepared me for, even though I was right there when it happened, standing within a couple yards. Even with my new legacy, I couldn't make a difference, I couldn't prevent what happened to John. It was my fault that he was captured, the effect of my futile attempts to follow through with my promises to One. The thought hit me with the same force as before, when the first tear forged a trail across my cheek.

_I'm sorry, One. I failed you_.

I imagine One's voice in my head, chiding me for blaming myself, but her made-up voice can't stitch up my torn feelings.

_We'll find him_, I tell her silently, wishing she could hear. We have to. We have to win this war. I hear a slight buzzing sound as my eyes droop, but my tired brain doesn't register it. My father's face looms up in front of me as I close my eyes, lulled to sleep by the sways of the car. His eyebrows are furrowed, and his lips are stretched taut. He narrows his eyes, and he directs his thoughts towards me with a burning, murderous look. Even though I know that it's not real and only a figment of my imagination, I shudder inside. He opens his mouth, and a harsh whisper slithers out of his lips.

_You will pay._

**A/N: I really hope you enjoyed this chapter! I hope I made Adam's point of view realistic. He's not going to be so emotional later, I promise. Unless you guys like him like this? Please tell me what you think :) Sorry if this was a boring chapter/too short of a chapter for you! I promise the next chapter'll be more interesting :)**

**Special thanks to I'm Number Eleven, Marina3Eight, and Paragon Eight for their encouragement! And thank you, Meerkat 78, for being supportive and amazing!**

**I can't believe it! The next book's title is the Fate of Ten! There's a book for 4, 5, 6, 7, 9, and 10 now. Can you see which number we're missing? I shouldn't get my hopes up, though...**


	7. Telepathic Messages

**Author's Note: Hi again, everyone! I added Six's point of view so this chapter wouldn't be too short! The beginning POV from Ella happened at the same time as Chapter 5. I hope it didn't confuse you too much, and I hope you enjoy it!**

Ella's Point of View:

I don't notice that I've fallen asleep until I jolt awake again.

My eyes fly open, only to slam shut again against the bright blue light in front of me. Surprised, I notice that I'm back where I used to be, slumped across the pedestal steps, now with a transparent blue dome glowing around me. I look down, and notice that someone has draped a white dress on top of the steps, too.

I don't want to change at first, but my shirt still holds the pungent smell of smoke, and part of it had been burnt off in the fire that John created. Making sure no Mogs were in the room, I quickly yank the dress on and wriggle my way out of my t-shirt. I keep my jeans on in an act of defiance, though, and also because the room feels like it's below freezing.

The tightness of my hair makes me realize that someone braided it while I was asleep. I shudder, imagining Kelly reaching her pale fingers towards me without me knowing. Why hadn't I woken up? Maybe it was that water she commanded me to drink. I almost throw up at the thought.

I blink at the blue light in front of me, which must be a force field. To test this, I put my palm a few inches away from it and immediately feel a nauseating feeling shock through my chest. I quickly retreat backwards, only to fall across the steps and crash into a hard something. Groaning, I rub the back of my head and turn around.

I almost gasp at the exquisite carvings on the expensive-looking seat. Its arms are decorated with entwining symbols, and purple violets bloom across its glossy surface. Mesmerized, I reach out and push myself up into a standing position using the chair's seat. There's no doubt about it; it's a throne. I trace my fingers along a few symbols on the arm, until I recognize a few Mogadorian letters that Crayton taught me.

Those symbols spell my name.

My hand jerks back, as if the throne is on fire. Taking deep breaths to calm myself, I step back again. I can't panic.

I stare intently at the blue dome that surrounds me, trying to send a message to Marina, in hopes that maybe she can find me.

_Marina._

_Marina!_

_MARINA!_

I don't hear anything but silence. It isn't usually this hard to communicate with the Garde, so the Mogs must have done something to my room. Frustrated, I concentrate on the force field, imagining the blue screen parting a little, just enough so that I can see through a tiny hole.

_Six!_

Astonished, I see a small gap slowly widening in the force field. I feel my thoughts flow out of my mind and into the vast, empty space.

_Ella?_

I almost collapse in relief and exhaustion.

_Six!_

My thoughts waver as I struggle to sustain the gap in the force field.

_Ella, Eight's gone._

I know that from my dreams, but to hear it from Six is too painful. I slump onto the ground as I hold my hand out, willing the small gap in the force field to stay open. I direct more thoughts towards Six.

_I know. We were attacked._

Six seems to know this, too, because I don't feel any sudden emotions on her side of the line.

_Where are you right now?_

I bite my lip. I don't know how to answer her.

_I don't know._

I wish I could show her what I'm seeing right now. Maybe she'll recognize it. After all, she's been inside a Mog hideout before.

Maybe I _can_ show her. I look around the room, soaking in all the details. The musty air, the bright tapestries, the cool tiles. I force all my thoughts to flow out in a stream past the part in the blue screen.

My hand trembles as it holds the gap open to let the visions pass through without physical contact. I picture the blank walls, the small door, the blue dome. I force myself to continue sending images towards her, images of the elegant throne, the stone pedestal, my white dress.

And lastly, my worn, haggard face.

Holding up the gap and sending all the visions starts to take its toll on me. I feel weak with exhaustion. Black dots start dancing across my eyes. The dark spots spread like india ink dropped on a cotton cloth until they almost cover my entire vision, and that's when I black out.

Six's Point of View:

Ella's real-time, telepathic video fizzles away as we lose contact. My heart's pounding, as if I just ran ten miles, and I have to take a deep breath to calm it.

_Ella, we're coming for you,_ I say back to her as reassuringly as I can, but I can tell my thoughts are reaching her anymore. My fists clench. Leave it to Setrakus Ra to play the dirty way by kidnapping the youngest, and consequently weakest, Garde. My anger flares as I realize that Five probably planned this out. As much as I hate to admit it, it was a strategic plan, but he isn't getting away with it.

"Six?" Marina says quietly. "What happened?" I bite my lip. She's already broken down enough because of Eight. We all are. I don't want her to be laden with guilt after I tell her Ella was kidnapped while we were gone. I rub at my sleepy eyes and heave a sigh. I have to tell her; she'll find out eventually, anyway.

"Ella's been kidnapped by the Mogs," I mumble, and hear a sharp intake of breath. My eyes dart up to meet hers. I almost shudder at the lost expression on Marina's face.

She doesn't look sad or mad. Her eyes just look...empty. Like she's given up. "Marina..." I rest my hand on her elbow, and she jerks away. I feel a little hurt, but bite back my feelings. I quickly retract my hand. "We're going to find her. They're taking good care of her right now. She has much better living quarters than the other prisoners." Marina looks straight at me.

"Do you even know what they do with prisoners?" she hisses. "She's being tortured right now."

I take a deep breath. "She's not being tortured. She looks like she's being cared for," I say, though I don't really believe it.

Marina turns away and faces the window. I feel the room's temperature drop, and I shiver in the freezing cold. Frost starts making its way up the glass pane, etching white, pale lines across its surface. The temperature continues to drop until I can see my breath in front of me when I exhale.

"Marina, we'll find her. We'll find her and rescue her," I try to say with conviction. I step closer to Marina, and she stays unresponsive.

"Marina?" I see her flinch.

She whirls around as the glass behind her shatters into a million shards, trimmed with glistening frost. A gust of frozen air hits me like a tidal wave, and I'm pushed backwards by its force. "How do you even know that? How can you be so sure?" she nearly screams.

I flinch backwards as icicles form from the low ceiling, encircling Marina. The gleaming ice columns stretch like crystal fingers in front of me. With my telekinesis, I break off the one closest to me and hurl it out the window. I hear the ice cracking as it makes contact with the concrete sidewalk.

Marina now looks up, her eyes wide. I know she can't handle this any longer. Her legs tremble and collapse underneath her, so she tucks them in and rests her forehead on her knees. I hear a sniffle as the icicles stop moving. I sigh and look down, lingering in the silence. A few minutes tick by, punctuated with quiet sobs from Marina. Comforting her should have been Eight's job, but I have to try.

"Hey," I whisper. "Marina."

No response.

"I know we can do this."

Silence.

"Do you know why? I know we can do this because the elders believed in us. And I know we can save Ella because of Nine. He's willing to kick anybody's a** if they bothered any one of us." I pause. "especially Ella."

Marina looks up, and I think I see her lips twitch. I smile and sit down next to her, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. She sighs and slumps down a little, her head resting on my shoulder. I'm glad I cheered her up a little, even though I'm so unused to this. _This should have been Eight's job_, I think again.

"Ok," she mumbles, lowering her eyelids again. Tears decorate her lashes like ice crystals as she closes her eyes. The room gradually starts warming up again, and the icicles begin to drip onto the floor. I let out a long-held breath and relax as it eases out of my chest, no longer lingering in a white cloud of moisture.

"Hey guys!" Nine interrupts, stepping into the room. Marina mumbles something. I think she told him to shut up.

"What, Nine?" I ask, a bit miffed.

"I've got breaking news!" He whips out a phone. If only we could all recover as quickly as he does. Wait. Where did he get that phone?

"Did you steal that phone?" I ask, incredulous.

"Um," He says sheepishly. "You don't know that I'm not going to return it."

I raise my eyebrows and cross my arms.

"Ok, fine, I stole it. But it was justified!" he protests. I roll my eyes. I feel sorry for whoever annoyed him this time. I hope he didn't make too big of a fuss. "Look, Six, he was asking for it. I saw this guy bullying these kids, and I remembered what you said about not drawing attention to myself." He pauses for my approval. I give it reluctantly in the form of a nod, and he continues. "So instead of kicking his a**, I just stole his phone," Nine declares proudly.

Situations like these make we wonder how we deal with Nine everyday. I roll my eyes again, but feel myself grinning. Marina raises her head to peer at Nine, who does a little grimace that I guess is supposed to be a sheepish smile.

"Go on, what's the news?" Marina grumbles, but not without a small smile. Nine's looking pretty proud of himself now. I might need to deflate his ego during training later.

"Ladies," He pauses for a dramatic effect. "I have found the location of Johnny and our friends." He flicks the screen with his index finger and shows us an article about a burning field in Paoli, Indiana.

I read aloud, "'Ignited Field May Be the First of Many Attempts to Burn Down Hoosier National Forest. On Thursday afternoon, the property of a long-time town resident was set to flames by an unknown source. Neighbors recall seeing large flares "out of nowhere" that soon led to the whole field's decimation.'" I skim through the rest of the article.

Nine glances towards us. "So what do you guys think?" I shake my head. That must have been John. I'm a bit worried about them, but since no casualties were mentioned, they should be fine.

"That place is probably swarming with Mogs," I say.

"We should go," Marina mumbles. "We should go," she repeats, louder, just in case we didn't hear her. Nine nods in approval.

"I vote in!" he declares. "Do you guys want to hitch a ride on a truck? A train?" Nine asks gleefully. He rubs his hands together, and I'm almost caught up in the excitement. I should probably stay sane, though, as Marina's too tired to do so just yet. I'm just learning now to appreciate all that she's done for us that I didn't really realize before.

"Since you have a phone already, why don't you find us a train or something," I suggest to Nine. He looks incredibly smug as he tells us he already found a freight train station nearby. I stifle a yawn and agree to come along.

Nine claps his hands together. "No time to waste! Let's go!" I groan as I push myself to my feet and offer a hand to Marina. She immediately takes it and pulls herself up.

Ten minutes later, I find myself packed and ready to go at the door. I'm so glad we're finally doing something. I'm not happy yet, but I'm hopeful. Maybe we still have a chance.

**A/N: So, how did you guys like it? Thanks for reading! Reviews and tips would be much appreciated! :)**

**Do you guys think this is too dramatic? I had fun writing about Nine!**

**To those of you who have read this story before March 15, I rearranged the chapters of my story to hopefully create a better flow :) so please don't be confused when you go back for Chapter 1 and find Chapter 5 in its place!**

**I'm probably not going to write many chapters with 2 points of views, so this is a special one! It just so happens that it's the number of my favorite character, Marina!**

**Have a great Spring Break, everyone! (If you have a vacation/break where you live!)**

**-Ashley Sky :)**

**Special Thanks to:**

**Meerkat78: Thank you so so much for your reviews, advice, and our quirky conversations!**

**TheThoughtsofKarasu: Thanks for your tips and comments!**


	8. Accidental Dozing

**Author's Note: I'm so so sorry for not updating in forever! This is more of an apology note than a chapter, but I have a small excerpt for you guys:**

Six's Point of View:

My eyes open slightly, taking in the dim interior of a train car. I'm leaning against a few crates, like I remember from before I fell asleep, but Marina and Nine are no longer sitting alert next to me like they promised to be.

I stifle a small laugh as I see Marina curled up on the ground next to me, fast asleep. Her knees are tucked close to her body, and her right arm rests bent underneath her head. She looks so calm and peaceful that I don't want to wake her.

I'm also uncomfortably aware of someone breathing on my arm. My shoulder feels like there's a lead boulder sitting on it, but when I turn my head, I realize that it's only Nine. He's fast asleep, too, with his head resting on my shoulder. I'm tempted to startle him awake and see him yelp, but I merely roll my eyes. I'll just let him sleep. He needs it.

As I doze off again, I wonder what's gotten into me. I don't remember caring this much for anyone else after Katarina died, but at this moment, I know the remaining Garde have filled up the empty space in my chest. I smile a little.

And Sam, too. I hope he's safe.

**Author's Note: Ok, yes, I know this was way too short to be called a chapter. I made it to let you guys know that I haven't given up on this story and that I haven't been kidnapped by Mogs or something. I'm going to be super busy for the next 2 weeks. :( I'm so sorry! I hope you enjoyed this short fraction of a chapter, though!**

**I just read Revenge of Seven and it's so amazing, but I was also kind of disappointed! I'm really mad at Five, but I feel sorry for him at the same time. That's possible, right? And Eight...I'm going to hide in a closet and cry again.**

**Tips for writing evil characters would be much appreciated and are desperately needed for the next few chapters!**


	9. The Heir

**A/N: Hi, everyone! I'll have a longer note at the bottom, but for now, enjoy! This is a brief overview of all the chapters just in case:**

**Grow Up-Ella wakes up after being kidnapped, but blacks out again after a tussle with a few Mogs.**

**Our Loss-Marina, Six, and Nine mourn Eight, and Marina receives a message from Five saying that they can still save him.**

**Still Alive-Ella awakens in a throne room and meets Kelly.**

**Abduction-The Mogs catch up with Adam, John, Sarah, Malcolm, and Sam, and John is kidnapped in the midst of the battle.**

**No Escape-Six receives a telepathic message from Ella.**

**My Fault-Adam ponders his situation during the car ride to the nearest hospital to help Sarah.**

**Telepathic Message-First we hear about Ella's telepathic message in her point of view, and then Marina learns about it. Six, Marina, and Nine set off to find the other group. (Sam, Six, Adam, and Malcolm.)**

**Quick Naps-Six realizes during the train trip towards the other group that she has opened up to the Garde and now cares deeply about them.**

* * *

I'm pressing my temples in an attempt to dull my headache when the door cranks open again. Dim light seeps into the room and glances off the cracks between the tiles. I glare at the dark figure silhouetted in the doorway as it slowly nears the throne, its steps punctuated by sharp clomps of steel-tipped boots.

A wave of panic hits me when I see the familiar, disgusting, purple splotch on his neck. Setrakus Ra continues to stroll forward, leisurely wielding the cane that had immobilized so many of my friends. I feel a shiver go through me when he turns his head, his eyes piercing through the blue forcefield as he finally stops a few yards before it, choosing to keep his distance.

I feel like I can't move. All of the oxygen in the room seems to have been sucked up and dispersed outside, leaving only the dustless remains of exhaled air. I want to stand up, stare him down defiantly, and curse him for everything he's ever done, but I can't.

My lungs gasp as I try not to panic. I twist the fabric of my dress in my left fist while panicked thoughts keep flashing through my head. I force myself to take a deep breath as I slowly unclench my fists. As my heart starts to beat at a steady rate again, my brain can finally take the time to think.

I can't let him have the information he wants, or else my friends will pay the price, nor can I let him hold me prisoner here too long, or else my friends might die anyway trying to save me.

Then again, draining information out of me probably isn't the main reason he wants me here.

His face is lit an eerie blue color that reflects his cold expression, and for a second, I imagine him standing here, ordering the execution of all the Lorics and humans with that same distant expression. As if he read my thoughts, his demeanor suddenly changes.

"Ella," he says, smiling benevolently, his eyes creasing at the corners in the classic look of a kind grandfather, but with a hard glint in his eyes that ruin the familiar picture. "You must know why you're here."

I push myself up and mutely glare at him. Of course I know why. But I won't give him the satisfaction of knowing that the nightmares he's been sending actually affected me.

"Ella, you must be tired and hungry after traveling so much. I am offering you food and care, and only under a few conditions."

He must be crazy to think that I'll give in so easily, but I don't speak up just yet, waiting to hear the rest of his offer.

"As you know, you've been chosen to become the next great Mogadorian leader." His smile widens, as if he can tell how hopeless I am feeling, but I don't let any of my emotions show.

"There is a reason behind choosing you, a reason you will know once you agree. I'm promising you the entire Earth and all of Mogadore, possibly the entire universe. I know that those foolish Lorics can't have promised you more than this."

He thinks that'll convince me?

"I know you're still having a hard time believing in the Mogadorian cause, since you have been brainwashed, but you have to trust me that the upcoming war is not a selfish act."

I press my lips together. As if.

"All these petty wars on Earth will be over once we spread our influence. There will be no more bloodshed."

It was ironic, listening to him talk about this while he was planning for the most immense war in history.

"After everyone is united under the Mogadorian cause, there will be peace, and more time for innovation and scientific research. We could stop all the unnecessary evils on earth, like diseases. Shortage of food. Maybe even cancer."

My mind swirls with the possibilities. I've heard of the new technology of the Mogs, but I've never really thought of how much good it could do. A nagging voice at the back of my mind tells me that he's lying, that he has to be lying about these things. But I know he isn't.

He continues, carefully watching my reaction. "If you still can't be convinced, you have to realize that on this side, _our_ side, you can lead a better future. The Elders doomed you to a life of misery and hiding. They never cared for you," he explains as his face darkens. The glow of the dome almost makes the gleam in eyes seem maniacal, unreal. The urge to speak up grabs me harder than ever, but he continues before I find my voice.

"Your so-called 'friends' didn't even try to help you when we rescued you. You might not remember, but Number Four chose to hide in safety with your human friend, Sam, rather than stop us. He didn't even lift a finger to help you." Setrakus Ra's voice deepens into a low whisper his eyebrows creasing in pity. Even though he's probably lying, I feel each of his words stab me, one by one.

"They never cared for you. You were always the little kid, the tag-along," he says, faking sympathy in his tone.

"No," I whisper. He raises his eyebrows, and his cane lightly drags across the floor, creating a light screeching noise that vibrates in my ears as he leans forward pityingly.

"No!" I say louder. My heartbeat is pounding in my chest and surging up into my brain, fueling the fire that Setrakus Ra has sparked.

He's lying. He's lying. It's all lies.

"That's not true! They cared for me! _We_ cared for each other! The Elders chose us to restore Lorien because they believed in us!" I yell furiously. I'm breathing heavily and my heart is still pounding, aching for a fight.

Setrakus Ra smiles patiently, and gives me slight shakes of the head, as if I'm only a child.

"Ella, you will understand once you have read the Great Book. They truly have brainwashed you, but I'll be able to fix you eventually. All I ask of you is to calmly do what I say, and we will all be happier in the future."

I narrow my eyes. He really thinks I'll go along with that?

He opens his vest and takes out a piece of yellowing, papyrus-like paper from the inside pocket, sliding it onto the ground, and tops it with a thin, silver pen. His cane flicks it across the dome-like forcefield to me until the paper skids to a stop, and the pen rolls until it bumps into the lowest step, right next to my foot.

"For now, all you need to do is sign this," he intones. Even as I fight the urge, my eyes flicker down towards it. I recognize a few Mogadorian words emblazoned across the top in red that translate into "eternal leader". He wants me to sign this already?

"No!"

I hurl the word at him, and his eyes flicker dangerously for a second before stilling into a quiet calm again.

"No?" he prods, calmly clasping his hands together. "Ella, you have a great future ahead of you. If you sign this, you'll be able to have anything you want, anything you can even imagine. I might even let your friends live."

He stands placidly in front of me, waiting for an answer. I don't know why he's so desperate to do this. Why me? Even if I agreed to become a leader, I'm not ready to lead.

Setrakus' eyes move away for the first time, flicking towards the corridor, where I hear the rolling of a cart in the distance.

He turns back to me, his eyes narrowing a little upon seeing no movement towards the pen. "I suspected you wouldn't give in just yet, but let me warn you: if you don't agree now, we have other ways of convincing you, and they're not nearly as pleasant."

He seems to have noticed his slight change in attitude, and again pulls up his mask of calm and benevolence.

"Ella, even though you're still young, I believe you're smart enough to know what's best. I know you don't always feel like you were meant to fight a war. And it's true."

I bite my lip, trying to tune out his words. "You weren't meant to. You were meant to lead." He strolls forward a step, so close that he could reach out a hand and touch the dome.

"I know this, Ella. I'm sure of it."

"No," I say fiercely. "You don't know me. I'll never agree to this."

I see his eyes narrow into slices of obsidian as he drops his mask of calm. Silent fury seems to tumble inside of him.

"Very well, then Ella. I have warned you."

He turns towards the doorway, where a silhouette of a large hulking object stands, and slowly beckons it forward. When he turns around, I see a real smile spread on his face for the first time, and it sends shivers down my spine. It's not like the fake grins he gave me before, but something else completely different, something purely malicious and evil. That's how I know that what he has in plan is much, much worse than anything I prepared for.

As the smile quickly drops off his face, I hear a low growl from behind his throat.

"I know that this will convince you."

* * *

**A/N: Hi everyone! Thanks for reading! I'm so so so so sorry for not updating in forever! I've been super busy and then I had a slight case of writer's block! Sorry about the chapter, too; I know this one kind of drags along, and I'm not really satisfied with how it turned out! ****Anyway, it's summer vacation, so I will definitely update more often!**

**Thanks so so much to all of my readers for sticking with me, especially my reviewers!**

**Thank you so much for your advice, TheThoughtsofKarasu****! This chapter only shows the tip of the glacier of Setrakus Ra's thoughts, but I'll definitely continue to use your advice!**

**Samthevariablex, thanks for your encouragement!**

**I'm Number Eleven, thanks for your constant comments! You might get to see more of what you wanted in the next chapter! ;)**

**Meerkat78, thanks so much for being there for me and putting up with me! You're an amazing writer!**

**Paragon Eight, thanks so much! I'm glad you actually found my writing humorous!**

**And last but not least, Adamus Sutekh, thanks so much for your detailed reviews and encouragement! You have great insight!**

**Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone again! I would have given up on my story if it weren't for all of you!**


	10. Bittersweet Reunion

**A/N: Here's Chapter 10! Enjoy! :)**

"Umm..." I mumble, searching for an explanation while the nurse taps her pen against her clipboard impatiently. "She fell from the second floor of our house and scraped her arm on a branch." That isn't too out of the ordinary, right?

The nurse raises her eyebrows, nodding for me to continue. "She...she was painting the window ledge when she lost her footing and fell off the ladder," I add, hoping it sounded realistic. Sarah covers her face with one hand, probably out of exasperation.

The nurse nods unbelievingly, jotting down a few notes on her clipboard. "The doctor will be here in a minute." She turns and walks out of the small hospital room.

As soon as the door shuts, Adam speaks up from his corner.

"That was real smooth, Sam."

"Shut up," I reply half-heartedly.

After Sarah is bandaged and we bluff our way through the rest of the doctor's questions, my thoughts return to the other Garde. Suddenly, a distant howl sounds. I cast a sidelong glance at Adam, and immediately know something is wrong. He freezes, his hands gripping the wall, his skin a slate gray.

"Adam?"

He blinks upon hearing his name and whispers urgently, "Quick, wake Sarah up. We need to lea-"

A piercing howl travels through the air, cutting him off.

I shake Sarah awake and scramble to open the door when Adam waves at me. "Use the window. It'll raise suspicion if we go out the door."

As he's speaking, he undoes the window latch, lifting it upward. To my surprise, it opens. Thoughts swarm through my head in a panic. Where are we going to do? Will Sarah be ok? We're not ready to fight again yet, and we dropped most of our weapons before coming inside.

Another agonizing howl sounds, as if emitted from the throat of a hoarse, mangled wolf, and its closeness chills me. I run towards the window and peer out, trying to locate its source. I only see a dense mass of trees behind a road until something behind a tree moves. A flash of silver streaks forward and I barely have time to shout before claws are raking up the wall in front of me.

I quickly slam down the window, locking it. I whirl around to see Adam, his face grim, already grabbing our trunks. Sarah pushes off her covers and goes to help him.

A shrill, grating noise reaches my ears, and to my horror, I see glinting claws scratching at the window, carving thin lines into the glass. The creature that I saw earlier ducks down for a second and lunges forward, only to slam against the window again. Sarah shrieks as the light from the room illuminates the creature for a few seconds. It looks like a cross between a lion and a wolf, its silvery-brown fur matted and thin. Its teeth glint as it growls, trying to peer at us out of its left eye, the right one swollen shut. Its claws scrabble for purchase as it falls, flaking paint off the wall.

Again and again, it leaps, only to thump against the window and claw its way down. Adam and my father exchange frantic glances as I try to think of a believable lie to pull Sarah out of the hospital past the staff, even though I have no idea where we can escape to. My fingers are on the doorknob when I hear a blast, and a brief cracking noise. The now cracked, bottom half of the window is heaved out of its frame by gloved hands. Mog hands, probably. The creature, suddenly noticing the empty space, leaps through and lands on the pristine white bed, smearing it with dirt and debris.

Adam picks up the chair next to the bed and hurls it forward. Though it smacks into the monster's head, it only seems to agitate it. We get our first glimpse of its companion as the Mog peers into the room, sneering as he realizes we are absolutely defenseless. The Mog nimbly hops into the room and commands, "Kill them all except for that traitor." Somehow, the creature understands, its sickly yellow eyes clamping onto me. Its legs tense up, and it lunges, claws reaching for my face before it freezes, inches away. Confused, it waves its paws in midair, unable to scratch me as my brain whirls in realization. Within seconds, its neck is immediately pierced with gleaming shards of ice.

Stunned, I look towards the window again, and my heart leaps as Six smiles from among the darkness. Her stormy eyes sparkle as she hops in, her hair flying around her face, almost like another dream.

Dazed, I see Marina scrambling in after her, and the room suddenly plunges a few degrees as her eyes narrow at the Mog. Right when Nine enters, the Mog is yanked up like a limp doll and brought back, crashing onto the floor.

I'm filled with relief and exhaustion and so much happiness that I can barely process what's happening, but I still feel like something's wrong...

It hits me. It's the missing space Eight used to fill between us. Numbly, I notice that the Mog's neck is already bent at an awkward angle, and that the lion-wolf creature is now slumped against the floor, dripping a dark black liquid from its neck. I look back at Six, and she runs forward, throwing her arms around me, and my face finally breaks into a small smile.

While she hugs me tightly, resting her head on my shoulder, I give her soft squeeze just to let her know I'm here. Six loosens her grip for a few seconds to look up at my face, and I see a faint smile tugging at her lips as she searches deep into my eyes. I savor the moment, refusing to drop the smile from off my face.

My heart thumps crazily as she tilts her head up, leaning closer, her breath brushing against my cheek, and I don't know how it happens, but suddenly her lips are on mine. My eyes flutter shut, and each of my thoughts seem to fall through quicksand. I don't know what time it is anymore, or where I am; all I know is that Six is here, and that Six is alive, and that right now, I'm kissing her, Six.

All the sounds in the room are muted, and I don't hear any of them until a quiet whisper of a howl reaches my ears and Six breaks away, still tantalizingly leaving her face inches from my own.

I know our moment is almost over when her eyes dart away for a second, towards the window to check for Mogs. Soon Six will back to being a warrior, just an unfeeling soldier in another war. When we make eye contact again, I see a last glimpse of Six from seconds before, a faint smile revealing a last mischievous sparkle. She leans forward, quickly whispering into my ear.

"Glad you didn't die on me, Sam."

A sad smile lingers as she pushes me away. Six bites her lip while staring out the window as the mood suddenly plunges. I can tell we're all thinking of Eight.

"Six-," I start, but she jerks her head slightly, telling me to stop, so I clamp my mouth shut.

My brain is still swimming in micro-gravity when the second creature leaps inside, clawing off bits of the window ledge in a horrible, scraping sound. It gives a wild cry, as if to beckon others. Startled, I take a step towards the fallen chair.

Right when I manage to regain some of my orientation, another howl sounds in answer, dangerously close.

Unfortunately, peace during these times don't last very long.

**A/N: Thank you guys so much for reading! I'm sure you're tired of hearing this by now but yes, I am so sorry for updating so late! I hope the romance was good enough-I have barely any experience in writing that! And of course, I hope you guys approve of Samix! It's summer but I was assigned so much homework...I should probably get back to that now!**

**Special thanks to:**

**Meerkat78 for your support and your sense of humor!**

**TheThoughtsofKarasu** **for sticking with me and for your enthusiasm! **

**And thanks to everyone for giving me a chance even though my updates are so irregular! I love each and every one of you and I hope you have an amazing day!**


	11. Forced Compliance

**Author's Note: Hey guys! Here's chapter 11! Please enjoy! **

**Note: There is a mild torture scene in here, so please don't read if that bothers you. :) **

I cross my arms, suppressing the urge to back away and duck behind the throne. I see the glare of a demented, evil fire inside Setrakus Ra's eyes, and I know immediately that he isn't going to trick me into signing the leadership document, or use black tar to immobilize me, or even sting me with acid until I give in. It was going to be much, much worse.

Setrakus Ra calmly tilts his head away, relishing in his power and my uncertainty. The rectangular shadow I saw in the doorway moves closer, and I realize it's a cart covered in a black tarp. Soft squeaks of its wheels follow it across the room as two large guards push the cart from behind, their breaths labored.

"I have a surprise for you, Ella," Setrakus Ra's voice rumbles with barely suppressed glee. He flicks his hand, commanding the Mogs to remove the tarp.

The soft glow of sunlight from the top of the walls hit the uncovered cage, and its steel bars cuts slanted shadows across the floor. As the tarp falls off, I see a body laid, face-up on a metal table inside the cage. The sunlight glints harshly off of the shackles that clamp his fists and ankles to the table legs. His wrists are rubbed raw, his clothes singed. I gasp when I see his face. No-it can't be-

"John!" I cry out.

I leap up, nearly tripping on my dress as I tumble forward down the marble steps. His eyes fly open, darting around the room, reminding me of a wild, trapped deer. My mind whirls, seeing his ripped jeans and haggard face. What have they done to him?

"John!" I scream again, and he cranes his neck around to see me.

"Ella?" his voice rasps. The tendons in his neck strain as he turns his head.

I nod, my eyes widening. "How did you get here?" Worry and desperation tinges my voice. Maybe he came for me. Maybe this is my fault.

"I-" His words choke in his throat. "We-"

"Silence him."

I turn towards the voice and see a short figure striding forward briskly from the doorway, nodding his head at Setrakus before stopping in front of the cage. He's stocky, and doesn't look much older than I am. He doesn't have the angular features of a Mog, but rather a soft nose and uncertain eyes, which he tries to mask with his stony expression. He tilts his head towards me.

"I'm Five, by the way."

Five. No wonder he looks so familiar. It's his is face on that tapestry. The one with Eight.

"You traitor!" I scream, grasping the thin material of my dress as the realization hits me. "You murderer!" His eye widen, and it's then when I really notice the gauze covering one of his eye sockets. Rage tumbles inside of me.

"Wait, I-" He swallows, his eyes flickering down.

I shake my head furiously and his stops. "I can't believe you did it." He presses his lips together and looks away. When I glance towards John again, the Mogs nearby have already managed to stuff his mouth with a cloth, cutting off anything he wanted to say to me. I notice that his Loric pendant has been replaced with a smooth red stone strung around his neck, vibrant with energy. What is that?

Setrakus Ra diverts his attention back to me, and my thoughts are cut off. "Ella, dear, you can still sign now before anything happens. It'll be a lot easier."

I bite my lip and brush off his comment for the time being, because my mind is on other things. Focusing my energy, I begin pushing a hole in the bottom of the blue force field. It's barely a finger wide, but I feel my mind automatically stretch out and sense John's.

_John, it's me, Ella._

His eyes light with surprise, but he doesn't question my ability to pass the glowing blue dome.

Setrakus Ra sighs at my noncompliance, not noticing John. From beneath his black coat, he pulls out a vial of a light amber liquid. The glass vial sparkles under a beam of sunlight.

_Ella, can you hear me?_ John prods.

_Yes_.

Setrakus begins pacing in front of the dome. "This is a chemically modified version of carborane acid," he explains, twirling the glass vial.

John sends me another message, trying to smile for me. _Ok, listen. You can't do anything he says. _

I nod hesitantly.

"Not the strongest acid in the world..," the Mog leader muses. My eyes dart between the vial and John.

He slows to a stop, exhaling slowly. "But the most painful."

I ball my fists, inhaling sharply. "No! STOP!" I scream, panicked.

"If you sign the contract, we'll stop," Setrakus replies, unfazed.

John jerks his head, trying to shake it. _Ella, don't! Don't do it! _

My hands shake a little and I clasp them together to conceal it. Maybe if I can hold off for a little while, they won't torture him.

Setrakus delicately holds the vial with three fingers and passes it to Five. "Just a few drops," he whispers. My mind screams internally as my fingers grow numb.

Five starts towards John's cage, and I fight to stay sane. I can't let John get hurt anymore. I need to stop this. Reaching out, I try to grab the vial with my telekinesis, but it doesn't work. It's as if someone set up a giant wall in my mind, preventing me from accessing my powers. I almost scream in frustration, but as Five starts to unscrew the cap, all my emotions melt into fear.

_Ella, just turn around_, John tells me. _There's no use in stopping this._

My hand reaches towards the pen, shaking.

_No. I need to stop this._ My thumb just barely brushes the tip.

_Ella! Don't do anything!_ John screams in my mind. My fingers grasp onto the pen. _NO! DROP THE PEN!_ His message reverberates in my head, a crashing cymbal.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I drop it. I look up and see a flash of relief in John's eyes, even as Five readies the acid.

Five's fingers shake a little as he sticks his arm into the cage, slowly tilting the vial. John closes his eyes, and even though I want to avert mine, I can't. My mind is a blizzard of thoughts, my heart a malfunctioning metronome. My knuckles are white as I clutch my hands together.

The liquid spills over, and a drop hits John's bare forearm.

A scream. An painful, tearing scream that seizes my brain and pierces my eardrums. John jerks his arm, but it doesn't come out of the manacle. It's my fault this happened to him, yet I was too weak to do anything about it. I can't watch this. _I can't do this any longer!_

"STOP! I'LL SIGN IT!" My words hurl desperation in their faces. Five jumps and yanks his hand out from between the bars. The sound softens, a haunting moan. Setrakus Ra glances at me and gives a small smile.

"I knew it wouldn't take long to convince you."

I push his words aside as I lift the pen, trembling, and scribble my signature across the bottom. My sloppy signature dips below the line and bleeds ink across the page, but it doesn't matter. He got what he wanted. As I lift my pen from the final stroke, Setrakus grins broadly.

A pain flares at the base of my neck. I scream, clapping my hand to it, but my fingers burn on contact. The pain grows fiercer, clouding my mind. It feels as if someone is pressing a burning poker to my neck. Through the pain, I see my signature glowing purple on the document. I clap my hands over my mouth to stop the screams and collapse onto the steps, letting only small whimpers escape as my vision turns blindingly white. Is he trying to kill me?

As the pain finally begins to die down, I smell a putrid burning smell. Setrakus Ra nods approvingly, pointing to his neck at his purple splotch.

"Now you have one too. The mark of a Mogadorian leader."

I gag, clutching my neck. A mark just like his.

"You might be wondering why I was so eager to label you." He murmurs.

"Now that you have this scar, every attack you do to me will be inflicted upon, you, also." He smiles cruelly. "And because of this scar, you are now bound to Mogadore and the Mogadorians."

Is this his way of making sure I don't escape from here? To make sure I stay compliant?

Setrakus Ra smiles, pleased with himself. "And all the better that you were chosen, since you are the tenth Elder." My mouth parts slightly. I am?

"You are Pittacus Lore."

A wave of confusion crashes into me. What?

No, that can't be.

No, no, no. He must be joking. I'm not strong enough. I'm not brave enough. I'm not even old enough yet.

But he's telling the truth though; I can tell. His lips twitch up at the corners, content with his power, and now with his invincibility.

What have I done?

**A/N: Thanks for reading, everyone! I'm so sorry but I'm going to have a bizarre update schedule because of school. I'm going to be crazy busy!**

**Side note: I founded a reading and writing club at my school and we're starting this year! I'm really excited for that, and of course we'll be discussing the Lorien Legacies!**

**Special thanks to:**

**TheAdventuresofaNerd for your comforting words!**

**Samthevariablex for your enthusiasm!**

**PD106 for your bright comments!**

**Sixisshortforsixty for the update reminder! (Love your username, by the way!)**

**Meerkat78 for being my penpal (or snapchat pal really) halfway across the world!**

**Thanks to all the guests who reviewed; I would love it if you commented with an account so I could thank each and every one of you! (But of course, do what you prefer!)**

**And lastly, to all who have read this and given me a chance! **

**P.S. Review/message me if you want an excerpt of the draft where instead of Five accidentally spills the acid all over himself. I decided to cut it out because it didn't work with the plot hahaha.**


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